Día de la Patria

Yesterday was Argentina’s Independence Day, their version of the 4^th of July. The holiday isn’t celebrated the same way we do at home, no neighborhood block parties or fireworks. Nevertheless, the Argentine sense of patriotism is striking. Tuesday I went to my host sister Oriana’s elementary school to see her dance in the annual “Nuevo de Julio” recital. We started with the Argentine national anthem (I just pretended to know what was going on) and the recital continued with kids dressed up in period costume basically reenacting the process of Argentina’s Constitutional Convention. There were dance breaks (Ori was great) and the director of the school gave a moving speech. She spoke about how even though Argentina is going through difficult times, it is necessary to remember that the country was born of difficult times and has overcome many other difficult times; what is important to keep in mind is the value of freedom and liberty. It was a great experience for me to see how Argentine kids learn about their history and heritage, and how proud they are of being Argentine. It is something Americans and Argentines have in common.

 

Later Tuesday night I was talking with a German friend of mine, who was struck by this outpouring of patriotism. Apparently in Germany most people can’t sing the national anthem off the top of their heads, or participate in recitals like Oriana’s when they are young. She said it was because Germans aren’t exactly proud of some parts of their history. I thought that was interesting because Argentina has had dark moments in history too, but deals with it in a completely different way than Germany. It was cool to get another perspective on the meaning of patriotism.

 

Yesterday on my run I was lucky enough to witness one of the most beautiful sunsets I have seen while being here, which is saying something because I have seen a lot. The sun was setting behind the Aduanas building, so I couldn’t see it directly the light around it tiger lily orange. The sky was a celeste blue, with a few long clouds that somehow were managing a beautiful cream color. Most of you probably don’t know what the Argentine flag looks like, but it is a white panel with a sun sandwiched between two blue panels. I couldn’t help but thinking that it was sunsets like that that inspired the design. A fitting sunset for Nuevo de Julio, Argentina’s birthday. 

Laberinto

Awhile ago I blogged about the conflict between the government and the campo. I said that the strike was over and hopefully negotiations will start. Well, I was wrong. Since then, there have been about 3 attempts at talks and they all failed. The farmers are demanding the taxes go back down to where they were, and the government is refusing; the government demands that the farmers abandon their strike with no incentive, and of course they are refusing. Inflammatory rhetoric on both sides has just made the situation worse.

Recent developments in the gobierno/campo conflict have driven me to blog once again. The conflict continues, more and more tense each day. Monday night there was a massive protest against the government's policies in cities all over the country. "Cacerolazos", or protestors who bang pots and pans, took over most of downtown Buenos Aires but luckily did not go to the Plaza de Mayo, where militants hired by the government were counterprotesting. Yesterday tensions eased a bit as the President announced she was sending the taxes to the Congress to be debated, but plans continued for a speech by the President today. Everyone is anxiously awaiting 3 pm, when Christina will appear in the Plaza de Mayo. I've been watching the news all morning and there are already a ton of people there.  Everyone is hoping that her words will be conciliatory, but if they're not I doubt the next protest will be as peaceful as Monday's. In that case, I am definitely staying home tonight.

As crazy as the situation has been (today is the 99th day of conflict) I feel so lucky to be a student in Buenos Aires, able to talk to Argentines about what is going on in their own country. It has given me a deeper understanding of Argentine politics and a better appreciation for this complex society. The government has accused the farmers of trying to stage a "golpe de economia" (economic coup), taking advantage of the continuing fear in Argentine society of a military coup. Luckily, the farmers quickly quashed that accusation and accused the government of fear mongering, which they were. I think it is a testament to the strength of the Argentine democracy, while imperfect, that even in the fact of extreme obstinance and carelessness by the government 1) such extreme protesting has been allowed and 2) the protests have been peaceful. 

Except for the political situation, life here is swimming along. I have my first final (!) this afternoon, for Spanish. This weekend is my last weekend in Buenos Aires for awhile, since Leah and I start our weekend travels soon. I'm sure we'll do this amazing city's nightlife justice, conflict with the campo or no.

Besos!

Natalie

P.S. On re-reading this post the situation sounds a little scary. It is, for example some of my friends aren't coming to school today, but as long as we all stay out of the Plaza de Mayo and surrounding areas things will be fine. Also Puerto Madero is Christina Central so there will be no clashes between pro-campo and pro-gobierno people in my neighborhood. 

Wanderlust: Salta; and One Week in Buenos Aires

Last weekend I continued my travels with a 48 hour jaunt up to the north of Argentina, to a province called Salta. It was the second GW program trip, so everything was done first class. We flew up on Friday night (about a two hour flight) and were pleasantly surprised by our hotel, an adorable boutique establishment with Spanish colonial style architecture. After checking in we promptly went out to eat at a "peña folclorica", the salteño version of a porteño "parrilla", or steakhouse. We were treated to an extremely argentine meal of empanadas, steak and vino tinto (claro!) and after dinner there was a concert of traditional music and dancing, or folclore. Since we had to be up at 7 the next morning for an all-day bus tour, we all went back to the hotel after dinner and crashed.

The bus tour route consisted of driving about 3 hours north to the city of Jujuy and the Quebradas de Huemahuaca. "Quebrada" is another word for "canyon" and it was named a World Heritage Site in 2003 due to the breathtaking scenery and rich Incan history. Our first stop: Purmamarca and the Cerro de los Siete Colores, a small hill that nonetheless was extremely impressive because, as the name suggests, it is made up of rocks of 7 different colors. After taking a ton of pictures, we continued on to an open air market to do some shopping, and eventually made it to the town of Huemahuaca for lunch. A small village filled with colonial architecture, we enjoyed some more traditional food (some of the girls ordered llama!) and took a tour of the town. Apparently their church has a cuckoo-clock in the tower, except instead of a bird out pops Saint Francis of Assissi. Our guide also told us a little bit about the demographics of the region. The north of Argentina is much more "criollo" or Indian than the rest of the country, and shares many cultural roots with neighboring Bolivia. Therefore, walking around Huemahuaca we saw many indigenous flags hanging out of windows and doors.  Since I can't really describe it, here is a picture: 

After lunch we continued on our bus tour and routinely stopped to take pictures notable places, namely an indigenous cemetery and the Tropic of Capricorn. Our last stop was the city of Jujuy where we made a quick tour around the main square and ducked into a cafe for pick me up coffees. By this time it was about 5 in the afternoon, and we were exhausted from our long day of sightseeing. That night we went to another amazing restaurant and ended up at a bar with live reggae music. After getting our fill of Salta nightlife, we headed back to rest up for our last day in Salta.

Sunday we took a city tour of Salta, including an archaeological museum with mummies! During the Incan empire human sacrifice was a common religious ceremony, and they would bury the dead high up in the Andes to be closer to heaven. The Salta Museum of Alta Montaña has 4 such mummies, all kids younger than 14.  It was interesting but very difficult to see because although they have been dead for over 600 years the mummies still had hair and eyelashes *shiver*. I was glad to continue our tour to the Salta Cathedral (it's pink!) and the Monastery of San Bernadino which had some more beautiful colonial architecture. We traveled up to a sub-tropical forest to have lunch, which was cool since the day before we had eaten lunch in the desert, and then had to head to the airport. A whirlwind trip but well worth it. 

Monday, one of the loves of my life, Leah Spelman, arrived here in Buenos Aires. She has spent the semester in Cairo but decided to come to my lovely city for the summer. I am so excited she is here so I can show her all around! Which is what we've been doing this week, when I haven't been in class or at Bairexport. It is weird, and sad, to think that this past week marked the 4-month mark that I have been here, and I have barely two months left in South America. It definitely does not feel like four months, it has gone by so fast. 

Political update: the conflict with the campo is still going strong, and yesterday I had a terrifying cabbie who told me that if progress is not made soon it is likely people will start rioting. Obviously, I hope he is exagerrating, but with every passing day it seems the two sides are becoming more and more entrenched in their positions: the government refuses to either adjust the tax or negotiate while the campo's rhetoric becomes more and more inflammatory. For a quick summary of the developments since March, go here: 

http://www.economist.com/world/la/displaystory.cfm?story_id=11465492

I hope everyone is enjoying their summers!!!

Besos

Wanderlust: Mendoza Edition

I don't have much time to update because LEAH MARIE (ALLYN) SPELMAN just called me and I am meeting her in an hour but I haven't posted in awhile and wanted to tell you all about my travels...

After Roberta left the homesickness that I'd managed to get rid of after Mar del Plata came back with a vengeance so I decided an adventure was in order. Mendoza had been on my "must-see" list for awhile so I packed up my friends Sailee and Sabrina and we headed off for a weekend in wine country. We left on Thursday night, slept on the micro (a 13-hour bus ride) and arrived at our beautiful hostel on Friday morning. Hostel Lao was decked out with hammocks, a patio, and, befitting wine country, a kitchen full of vino tinto. Though we were a little tired from our journey, we decided to take advantage of the day and start the weekend off with a bike wine tour. The students option, the bike wine tour involved renting rickety yellow bicycles, being given a map, and left to our own devices. The first stop was the wine museum which showed the development of the wine making process since the first vineyard was opened in Argentina in 1856. Pretty cool. After the wine museum we made it to three other bodegas, or vineyards, before it got too late to continue. A van from the tour company came to look for us before we got picked up by "policia turistica" or the rent-a-cops that patrol the vineyards at night. Apparently some tourists try and stay later to wander through the vineyards...

The next day Sabrina wanted to go hiking, but that tour left at 7 in the morning so Sailee and I opted out. We spent the afternoon going to the bodegas that we had missed the day before, and ended up on an adventure. Instead of biking we decided to take the colectivo, or bus, but we guessed wrong about which bus to take and ended up with about 2 miles to walk to the bodegas. Halfway into our trek Sailee had the great idea (probably inspired by the tourist story we had heard the night before) to jump one of the barbed wire fences around the vineyards to get better pictures. Luckily, no policia showed up and we got some pretty great pictures, but the scratch on my leg is still healing. We spent the night out with some friends we made in the hostel. I have grown to prefer hostel living to staying in hotels because if you get the right hostel everyone is SO friendly. Young travelers, all looking for... adventure? Anyways, it was fun.

The next morning (Sunday) we did wake up at 7 to take a bus tour of Canon Atuel, in the Andes. Stops included Puente del Inca, hotsprings that the Incas believed had magical healing powers; Aconcagua, the highest peak in South America; and Las Cuevas, a tiny tiny mountain town that is the last Argentine town in that region before Chile. Everything was beautiful unfortunately we couldn't see Aconcagua due to cloud cover. Oh well. I bought a postcard. Sunday was also a national holiday in Argentina: Veinticinco de Mayo, or, Dia de la Patria. It marks the day in 1810 that the Virreinato del Rio de la Plata (present day Argentina, Chile, Peru, Paraguay and Uruguay) decided to fight against the Spanish crown for independence. The war that was started did not end until July 9, 1825 (9 de Julio is another Argentine independence day). Apparently a traditional food to eat on 25 de Mayo is called locro, a stew made with chickpeas, beef and vegetables, so when we stopped for lunch in Las Cuevas locro it was. That night we explored Calle Aristides, basically Mendoza's version of Adams Morgan. They have some really cool bars with great reggaeton music, something Buenos Aires is lacking. Another great night. 

Our last day in Mendoza we decided to explore the city, since we had spent so much time outside of it. We wandered around Plaza Independencia, their main square which is much smaller than Plaza de Mayo, and Parque las Heras, their park. We also managed to find Cerro de la Gloria, a monument to General San Martin. After liberating Argentina he crossed the Andes close to Mendoza, in the middle of winter, to start on Chile. No easy task, and he managed to do it in 5 days and still win when he got there. The monument was beautiful and it was fun to get some more history. By the time we got back to the hostel it was time to check out and get to the bus station for another overnight trip back to Buenos Aires. An amazing weekend and I had managed to renew my appreciation for this amazing country. 

This past weekend I was in Salta with all the GW girls which was another great trip, I'll update about that as soon as I can. I cannot believe it is already June and I have only two more months here. Rough outline of my remaining time in South America:

June: in Buenos Aires, lots of studying, hopefully trips to Puerto Madryn to go whale watching and Iguazu Falls to see the waterfalls.

First week of July: Finals

Second week of July: living with Leah in the Road2Argentina residence, doing all the touristy things around BA that I have managed to not do until now.

Last two weeks of July/First week of August: Adventuring around Peru/Bolivia/Chile with Leah.

Home on August 9th. 

Besos

Meatheads. Literally.

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, things got crazy last week with midterms and I had my last one only yesterday. It was my hardest one, for my "Politica Exterior de Argentina" class, the one with other Argentines. But I think it went well, so now I can relax and enjoy my BIRTHDAY MARATHON WEEKEND. Roberta gets here on Friday morning and as I've been telling everyone estoy demasiado emocionada (I'm too excited). After we check into our apartment for the week, we are going to Bairexport for a birthday asado. Which brings me to this post's topic. 

Every Friday at my internship we engage in the most argentine of all argentine activities: we make an asado. It is arguably my favorite part of the week here. At first glance an asado, for the uniniated, appears to be your standard barbeque like we have at home. But it is oh so much more than that. Walk around the park in Puerto Madero any given Sunday and there are tons of families grilling, laughing, and just hanging out. Meat is a huge part of the Argentine ethos and asado is a reflection of this. It is a process. First there is the choosing of the meat. I went last week with my boss to the carneceria and let me tell you, it was a process. He asked questions like, "when did this meat come in?" and "from which farm?" I have never done that, or seen anyone else do that, in any American supermarket. Next there is the actual cooking of the meat. Usually it is a staffer named Emilio who does the cooking, and he starts the grill at about 12 to eat at 3. You see, an asado cannot be rushed. The grill has to get to the exact temperature and the meat has to cook slowly, to make it soft enough to eat in a sandwich. Then, finally there is the eating, my favorite part! Asados are a huge part of the argentine community fabric and my group at Bairexport is no exception. We take a long break from work and just hang out and joke around. I have learned a ton of Argentine slang from these hours, let me tell you. I don't do asados with my host family since the girls go with their dad on the weekends, so I am really grateful to have a Bairexport family with which to learn about the asado process.

I won't post again until after Roberta leaves, so try not to miss me too much. I'm sure that post will be a novel as I detail all of our adventures around this amazing city :)

Besos

N

Sonriendo :)

I am in a really good mood today, even though the smoke is still giving me breathing problems. My sister/soultwin is coming to visit me for my birthday in three weeks; and I am so excited I actually cannot stop talking about it, one of my best friends Leah finalized her plans to spend her summer here in Buenos Aires, and I had a really great weekend. 

We had so much fun dancing in Bariloche that on Thursday we decided to go to a boliche, one of the infamous all-night dance clubs. Chosen destination: Lost, a club that changes its music depending on day of the weekend and Thursdays are hip-hop night. Imagine my excitement. It was great to be able to actually sing along with some of the songs instead of just pretending I can understand the Spanish reggaeton or rap. I died a little inside when they played Kanye's "Touch the Sky." I stayed a lot longer than I had intended to (since I have interning Friday mornings at 10) but did not regret it at all. 

Friday, my boss mentioned that he was going on a wine tour that night. "Wine tour", you ask, "that sounds intriguing." Well, that is what I thought so I asked him to elaborate. Coordinated by a company called  Wine Tour Urbano vineyards set up shop in select boutiques over a three block stretch of Recoleta. You buy a glass and a wristband and can wander as long as you want. He sent me the information, and later that night off we went. Sailee and I met up with some of our German friends from orientation and learned more about the wonderful world of wine. We tried every type of red you can imagine, some aged in wood barrels, some in metal barrels, some organic, one mixed with white wine... it is amazing how a small difference like one more year of maturity changes the taste of a wine. Most of the wines were from the Mendoza region of Argentina, which had always been on my list of must-go places, and Friday just reinforced it. After the wine tour, and after dinner, we decided to go to another boliche and danced the night away (again).

Saturday my friend's parents (who are here visiting for three weeks) were throwing a party at their apartment so I decided to go for a little then call it an early night. It was really great to just chill and talk and hang out with them in a place not smoky or incredibly loud. The other exchange students here are having the same problems I am making friends with portenos, so we discussed why that is. I have one Argentine girl I can really call a "friend," and the others are more acquaintances. The education system here is set up so that from kindergarten on students are in the same sections all together, and private schools are not common. Hence, most of them have had the same friends since age 5. Once in university, most of them take a full course load and work full time on top of any extracurriculars they do so they really do not have much interest in expanding their circle of friends. This may sound awful, but made me feel better that I am not the only exchange student having this difficulty. After hanging out all night, I caught a cab back to Puerto Madero to sleep off this crazy Argentine weekend. 

Back to reading... and more smiling :)

Besos!

Nati

Fire in the Campo

Another news flash: recently fields of pastizales, a tall grass farmers plant to recuperate the land, caught fire. This would not exceptional except that the area burning is about three times the size of greater Buenos Aires, and the wind is carrying the smoke into the city. Highways have been closed for lack of visibility and a lot of businesses have closed as well. I bought eyedrops because I was starting to look like I have pinkeye. The situation has aggravated the aforementioned ongoing conflict in between the campo and the government. The strike has been called off but they are still in very tense talks, and the fire has not made the situation any better. The Government is blaming the agricultural leaders for setting the fire intentionally, and of course they are denying it. Fires like this apparently happen pretty frequently, but not on this large a scale. Also, since there is so much bad blood, the two parties are pointing fingers for getting the fire under control. So, right now there is a diplomatic impasse while the country burns and the people have trouble breathing.

Fun is My Middle Name: Bariloche

This past weekend we took our first GW program trip to Bariloche in the southern Lakes  District of Argentina. Located at the foothills of the Andes, the main draw here is the sightseeing in the summer and skiing in the winter. I was a little nervous about the cold, but I knew it was going to be a fun trip when a mix up with the paperwork gave me the middle name "Fun" on my boarding pass. How they got from "Ann" to "Fun" is beyond me but it turned out to be a lucky sign. After a 2 hour flight we got to Bariloche at around 12:30 on Thursday night, and promptly went to find the only restaurant still open. We definitely weren't in Buenos Aires anymore, since at 12:30 on a Thursday most restaurants are hitting their peak traffic. After a delicious (if provincial) meal we went back to the hotel and rested up for Friday.

Friday morning we woke up relatively early and headed out on a guided tour of the Circuito Chico, a circular trip around the city with stops at the tourist highlights. I was not a happy camper when our guide told us it was about 6 degrees Celsius below freezing, but then "Incomplete" by the Backstreet Boys came on the radio and it was fine. Our first stop was the Cerro Catedral, which we scaled in a chairlift. This is where words or pictures stop doing justice to the sheer natural beauty of Bariloche. We got to the top of the hill and in every direction were blue blue lakes and green green moutains. Behind the green mountains closer to us were snow capped ones, and our guide told us that in between the green mountains and the white ones were glaciers. We wandered around for about an hour taking pictures and generally wondering at the beauty. Eventually we went to the cafe to warm up, and took the chairlift back down the mountain. Our next stop was another scenic overlook with an outdoor market, where I took more pictures and played with a St. Bernard puppy one of the vendors had. The final must-do was a visit to a rosa mesquita taller (workshop). Aceite de rosa mesquita, or rose hip oil, is one of the main products of Bariloche and they turn it into everything. We were able to try face cream, lotion, soap, shower gel, bubble bath, "dulce" (jam), and tea. I bought some lotion since I could already tell the cold was doing a number on my skin. After the tour was over, we had the afternoon free to wander Bariloche. The city is adorable. The architecture is very heavily influenced by the Swiss and German immigrants who built it, and around every corner is another beautiful view of the lakes. We wandered around an outdoor fair for awhile, found another indoor fair, and went to one of the many chocolate shops (another main product of Bariloche) before my friends decided a nap was necessary. I was not tired yet, so I visited the Centro Civico, the main square. I was surprised to see a panuelo (handkerchief) of the Madres of the Plaza de Mayo painted on the ground, but I know I should not have been. Every province and every city was affected by the dictatorship, not just Buenos Aires. Back at the hotel, I napped, we had dinner and went out to take advantage of Bariloche nightlife.

The next day, Saturday, was horseback riding day. We were picked up at the hotel by a nice German man and drove about an hour to the middle of nowhere, where the stables were and where he lives with his family. I sat in the front and talked with him the whole way. Apparently in the winter when they get snowed in he goes into Bariloche for 5 or 6 days at a time to buy supplies, and then doesn't leave again for another few months. Wow. My horse was named Pinineo, and imagine my trepidation when I was given a stick to hit him with because "he likes to bite the other horses." It may seem like I've been doing a lot of horseback riding lately, and I have, but I have to say that my intense discomfort around horses has not changed. Riding a maladjusted horse was not what I had in mind. Once we got started riding however, I was able to forget my fear and cold for awhile to enjoy the scenery. About halfway into the two hour ride I was getting too cold to ignore it anymore so I asked our gaucho guide if he could teach me a gaucho song to distract myself. He could not, so I started a round of row row row your boat with my friend Laura. We sang that and other songs the rest of the way to the estancia, where we had a delicious asado lunch. I have had the luck to eat a couple of asados during my time here, and I think they deserve their own blog post, but basically it's barbeque. We got back on the horses, and luckily the afternoon was much warmer than the morning. We rode along a stream most of the way which was beautiful. I was almost sad to say good bye to Pinineo, who had only bit one horse the whole day. We all slept the whole way back to the hotel. After dinner we were so tired we almost didn't go out, and it took our tour coordinator Lea coming into the room and kicking us all out of bed to get us to leave. I am so glad she did, because the second night was definitely more fun than the first. Bariloche has its own Irish pub named Wilkenny's, and it played the best dance music I have heard in a really long time. Portenos love their techno, but I am not a fan. The DJ at Wilkenny's played the perfect mix of pop and reggaeton, and we just danced the night away. 

After sleeping in Sunday morning, we had lunch in the hotel and went out to take one more walk around Bariloche before leaving for the airport. I was sad to leave the natural beauty of the lake district, but every time I leave Buenos Aires I am more excited and happy to come back. I think it is because I know that one day I will leave for good, and I realize how lucky I am for now to be able to come home to this amazing city. 

Besos!

Nati

Me Enamora

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to live somewhere. Usually when one goes to a foreign country it's for a visit, not "to live." Study abroad is supposed to be just that: we'll come home saying we "lived" in such and such country for x amount of months. But at what length of time does study abroad become more than a visit or "adjustment period" or 24 hour debauchery and turn into a life? 

I finally feel like I am finally done adjusting or visiting or what have you. It took me longer than I thought it would, this being the beginning of my third month in Argentina. And I have to say, I have not always been deliriously happy here. But I have become familiar enough with the city, the transportation, the people and the customs to no longer feel like a total stranger. My classes are super interesting, as well as my internship; I have enough free time (for now) to fit cultural things in once in awhile, and I have a solid group of girls to go out with on the weekends. I even got asked for directions the other day by an Argentine, and was able to say something more than "lo siento, no  sé" (I'm sorry, I don't know). I'm living! And it feels great. Good thing there are four more months of life here to soak up and enjoy.

Lots and lots of love and besos.

Ultimas Noticias (Latest Headlines)

There has been a lot going on in Argentine politics this week, so I thought I'd write a little about it and offer my observations. 

First: The Kirchner administration, now in power, has advocated a much tougher stance on perpetrators of human rights abuses under the military junta. In the 30 years since its fall, different presidential administrations have gone back and forth on how to deal with the leadership of the junta. In addition to repealing a law that previously gave amnesty to anyone below a certain point on the chain of command, the Kirchners instated a "Day of Memory of Truth and Justice" holiday. The first one was this past Monday, the day after I returned from Chile. I decided to go walk around the Plaza de Mayo, where human rights groups were congregating. Though the day commemorates a tragedy I was surprised to find an almost festive atmosphere. People were grilling, dancing, shouting to each other. I was alone so only stayed long enough to walk around a bit, and then headed home. Over dinner, Nancy and I talked at length about the meaning of the day, and she had some really interesting observations. She noted that since the day came after the long weekend for Semana Santa, most people were treating it as a longer vacation and hence the gravity was lost. Christina Kirchner, the president of Argentina, hadn't even gone to the memorial service because she was still at her country house. The girls didn't have school and so were not being taught about WHY a day was necessary. I asked her if she thought, even though it was a holiday, a day was worthwhile because it makes the junta easier to talk about and brings things out in the open whereas if there were no memorial people would keep hiding it. Of course, she said, she just thought it was the wrong way to go about things. Turning a memorial for 30,000 people disappeared into an excuse to stay at the beach an extra day is insulting to their memory and not what such a memorial should be about. She also noted that, to instate a day 30 years later is very after the fact. The legacy of the junta is one of the sorest spots in Argentine society and divisions run deep. Although I agree with Nancy that such a holiday should be treated with more gravitas, something is better than nothing.

The second headline I wanted to talk about is the over-two-week farmers' strike that ended yesterday. In order to reduce the federal deficit caused by inflation, the Kirchner administration raised export tax on agricultural goods to 40% from 27%. After operating costs and allowing for inflation, that leaves almost nothing for the producer. Agriculture is Argentina's biggest industry, and this was the first time in history that all industries: meat, dairy, fruits and vegetables; and both management and workers, were completely in agreement and all stopped production. Many times in the past the workers have struck against management, or the dairy industry will have some problems, but never all at once. Fruit started going bad and some butchers ran out of meat (which, in a country of meat eaters, is a HUGE deal). Christina ignored them for about 10 days before giving an inflammatory speech and used the phrase "I will not give in to extortion." That just made things worse. Then, on Thursday, she adopted a more conciliatory tone in another speech, tensions lifted slightly, and negotiations began yesterday. Never before had I seen such an illustration of another division in Argentine society: porteños  (people who live in BsAs) and campesinos (people who live in the provinces and work on farms). The unfairness of the tax aside, the reaction of the Kirchner government to the concerns of their people was appalling. I only hope that with the negotiations a fairer deal can be found. 

Chile: the $35,000 peso manzana.

Last week we had a super long weekend for Easter, and my friends and I decided to take advantage of the time off and go to Chile. My grandmother spent years in Chile when she was younger, so it was high on my list of places to visit. Finding a convenient flight was difficult since it was such short notice, but we finally all found ones on Tuesday evening, meaning the only day of class I missed was Wednesday. Since our flight got into Santiago pretty late at night, the plan was to spend the night in Santiago before heading to Valparaiso. We would stay there for 2 nights and go back to Santiago for 2 nights, returning to Buenos Aires on Sunday.

 

Getting to the airport and onto our flight on Tuesday went off without a hitch, but we were glad to get to our hostel in Santiago. After a quick meal of the Chilean classic “pan as palta” which is a hot dog with guacamole on top, we went back to the hostel and got ready for out Chilean journey on Wednesday. We had plans to take the micro bus but didn’t know where the bus terminal in Santiago was or how often the buses left. Luckily, hostel personnel are always really friendly and knowledgeable about their area, and the owner was more than willing to help us. The bus terminal was only a quick metro ride away, and we got there quickly, but buying a bus ticket was a different story. The Santiago bus terminal is under construction, and we were sent to about three different counters before we found the right one. Then, after showing the woman the address of the hostel we wanted to go to, she told us that it wasn’t really in Valparaiso it was about an hour further out. Fine, as long as it was still on the beach. We bought round trip tickets and headed out. I’m going to rave again about micros because they are just that cool. Clean, comfortable, you usually get at least a coffee if not food, and my favorite part is that you can easily watch the world pass by. The Chilean landscape could not be more diferent than Argentina: it is mountainous and dry whereas Argentina is flat and green, but both are beautiful and unique. The trip to “Playa Ritoque” took about three hours. After taking a taxi to the hostel, I was speechless. The place was incredibly beautiful and completely undeveloped save for a few houses, our hostel and a restaurant set a little ways off the beach. We learned later that it is basically the only undeveloped coast in Chile, due to a copper plant’s railroad that goes basically right next to the beach. No one wants a beach house in which you have to cross railroad tracks to get to the beach, and good thing. After exploring a little and jumping up and down at our good luck, we spent the afternoon laying out on the dunes. In the evening we went into the town and bought amazing Chilean produce and pasta for dinner, and cooked for ourselves. Our hippie hostel owner, Ian, was an expatriate who has been living in Chile since 2002 because he disagrees with “everything the United States has come to stand for” and he “doesn’t want any part of it”. Needless to say, he was a little inflammatory but extremely interesting to talk to.  He made us a bonfire the first night and we all sat around drinking pisco sours, the traditional Chilean cocktail, and talking politics.

 The next day we woke up relatively early and headed to the beach because we had made a horseback riding date at 3 in the afternoon. I was nervous because I have a deep seated fear of horses and hadn’t ridden one in over a decade. But, when in Rome… anyway. It was well worth my initial trepidation because the landscape was even more incredible from up high on horseback. The entire place was paradise. Some of my friends wanted to trot/gallop/generally go faster than me so I held back and made friends with our tour guide, a retired rugby player who threw out his back and now rides horses for a living (counterintuitive, no?) It was fun to talk with him, hear more about his rugby team, the Playa Ritoque community, and hear their plans for Easter. The whole community gets in on a huge Easter egg hunt. We traversed up and over dunes, across the beach and back for about three hours before heading back to the hostel. That night they opened the beach restaurant and we had a little “festichola.” It was good to meet some native Chileans and just hang out.

The next morning we got up early to head out. The plan was to take a bus to Valparaiso, and spend a few hours there sightseeing before traveling the rest of the way to Santiago. The first half of the plan went off without a hitch, but we hadn’t been in Valparaiso for more than an hour before my friend’s camera was stolen out of her hand. A street kid literally walked up, snatched it as she was taking a picture, and went running. Apparently we had wandered into a bad neighborhood, and with all our luggage we were easy targets. We spent the rest of our time in Valparaiso making a police report, and then got to Santiago as fast as we could. When we got to the hostel we crashed. The next day, after getting a map and directions from the desk guy at the hostel, we set off sightseeing in Santiago. It is beautiful but different than Buenos Aires. First, the geography: Santiago is mountainy and hilly while Buenos Aires is completely flat. The architecture as well is a lot more modern and concrete-based, while porteños love their flourishes and details and marble. We visited Saint Lucia’s Hill, the first settlement of Santiago, the Plaza de Armas (the Chilean version of the Plaza de Mayo) and Saint Christopher’s Hill. Saint Christophers Hill is so large there is a gondola that you take to get to the top, where there is a playground and a huge statue of the Virgin Mary. We walked around and waited for the sunset, taking lots of pictures and admiring the city. The next day some of my friends flights were early but four of us didn’t leave until 9 so we took advantage of our extra time to visit Pablo Neruda’s house. For non Latin American literature buffs, he is a famous Chilean poet who won the Nobel Prize for Literature and is one of my favorite authors. His house in Santiago served as a clandestine meeting point for him and his third wife while he was still married to his second wife. The place was incredible. He served as a foreign ambassador for Chile for many years so there were trinkets from all over the world. He loved the sea and desined the house to feel like a boat, so the dining room was long and narrow with a curved ceiling, and all the staircases were spiral.  I was so glad to have the opportunity to learn more about this fascinating poet. I posted one of his most famous poems, and its translation, below. After the house tour, since it was Easter, we treated ourselves to a big Easter lunch before heading to the airport and back to Buenos Aires. It was bittersweet to leave Chile because it had been such an amazing experience but every time I leave Buenos Aires coming back becomes more gratifying. I had missed by Buenos Aires querido.

Poem 20

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. 

Escribir, por ejemplo: «La noche está estrellada, 
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.» 

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta. 

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. 
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso. 

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos. 
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito. 

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería. 
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos. 

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. 
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido. 

Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella. 
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío. 

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla. 
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo. 

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos. 
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido. 

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca. 
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo. 

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles. 
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos. 

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise. 
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído. 

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos. 
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos. 

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero. 
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido. 

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos, 
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido. 

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa, 
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

Poem 20

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, "The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance."

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms,
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
and these the last verses that I write for her.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

There are actually a surprising amount of Irish pubs here in Buenos Aires, but that is besides the point of this blog post. Classes started last week, and everyone's been asking me how they went. So here you go:

My first one, on Tuesday, was "Argentina en Palabras," my class that follows modern Argentine history through literature. I was super excited for it because I have already taken History of Argentina at GW and wanted to get a different perspective. The class is at 12:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so Sailee and I met up at 12 for a cafe before class. We wanted to recap the night before, which had been our friend Laura's 21st birthday. No matter what country you're in, birthday nights call for recaps. We finished our coffees and headed to the first UCA building, where we had been told class was. Little did we know that classes are not usually in the first UCA building since it is where most administrative offices are. When we tried to climb the main staircase to the third floor, we were stopped by a security guard. Now, I have tried to avoid these security guards as much as possible because though they are rent-a-cops hired by the university to enforce the dress code and generally keep order, I have no interest in contact with any type of law enforcement during my time here. Except maybe to ask directions. Needless to say, when we were asked who we were and where we were going, and for our UCA IDs, and then told to turn around and go to the information desk, I was a little shaken. We went to the desk and she whipped out a list and asked us for our names. I thought, Great, a list, we're going on the list. Maybe of American exchange students who can't find their way around. Wrong, we were already there. Turns out it was the class roster, and we had to be swiped up a special elevator to where our class was. We have to check in, and get swiped up, every time we have class. 

Obviously this is not normal Argentine class procedure. The reason this particular class was in a restricted area of the school was because it is in the PEL program, the program that is geared toward exchange students though all the classes are held in Spanish. These classes apparently get the short end of the stick when being assigned rooms. 

My other class, the advanced Spanish one, is going to be great. I have already spoken more in that class than I think I did the entire intensive course. I am still trying out Political Science classes, they start this week so I'm going to my first one tonight. Wish me luck. 

Most of the girls from GW and I are going to Chile for Semana Santa since we have 5 days off from school!! We are spending 2 days in Valparaiso and 3 days in Santiago, coming back on Easter. Hope everyone is enjoying Spring Break!

Besoss,

N

Mar del Plata, or, Personal Revelations

On Saturday morning we left for Mar Del Plata, my first long trip outside of Buenos Aires. Since we had decided to enjoy a Friday night in Buenos Aires, I slept most of the way there. We were traveling by a miracle invention called “microbuses” which are huge coach buses that go pretty much everywhere and are really comfortable, so when I woke up we had arrived. To my dismay, it was gray and drizzly and would remain so for most of the time we were there. Not exactly beach weather. Mar Del Plata being a big city, however, we were able to find plenty of diversions to keep us busy. Highlights include:

-       Sailee and I getting lost on the colectivo the first day and traveling to the next town over, Santa Clara del Mar.

-       Wandering the plaza and finding a carousel.

-       The Museo del Mar, a marine science museum where we spent hours pretending to be little kids.

-       An Argentine traveling circus that was impressively sophisticated.

-       Two words: go karts.

-       My first casino experience. In my opinion, they are overrated.

-       An intense political discussion with some Argentines we met at the go kart place.

-       And finally, on the last day… THE BEACH.

After we got sunned out (I managed to get sunburned on the one sunny day), we ventured out to a sea lion reserve that my friend Laura had read about. This was arguably my favorite part of the trip.  The “reserve” was the port area of the city and among the docks filled with huge fishing and oil trawlers were hundreds of sleeping sealions. It was late afternoon, turning the water an insane lavender color and huge puffy clouds filled the sky. It was peaceful, beautiful and completely tranquil. I also have a confession to make: I hadn’t really wanted to go see the sea lions. I was tired at the end of what had been a fun if not relaxing vacation, and just wanted to go home and shower. But if I had, I would have missed out on what turned out to be one of my favorite parts of the trip. Standing there, I realized that a lot of the past month I have been focusing more on what is not here (i.e. my friends, family and everything familiar) than taking advantage of what is. Don’t get me wrong, Buenos Aires, and Argentina in general, are as great as I thought they would be but I am sure I have not fully rose to the challenge of being abroad. In other words, many times I have been stuck on the negative rather than the positive. Standing there, looking out at the ocean and the sea lions, I promised myself I am going to try and relax a little, and just have fun here.  Argentina is my home for 5 more months and I need to appreciate it for what it is rather than constantly compare it to home. This might sound obvious, but it took me 5 weeks and constant daily challenges to realize.

Hope everyone survived midterms...

Besos! 

N

Como Se Bailan Los Tangos... and Course Registration

Yesterday, the moment we've all been waiting for finally arrived. Yes, I had my first tango class, and it was SUPER. So I'll tell you about it right now.

It is Orientation Week at UCA, and every afternoon we've had activities to do. Yesterday they brought in two professional tango dancers who have toured around the country to give us awkward exchange students a beginner class. We started with walking. Walking, you say, I do that everyday, it can't be that hard. Nope, in tango there is a specific standing pose you start from (shoulders forward with your chest out, feet together) and move forward with your feet following your hips. I lost my balance a couple times and couldn't help laughing at myself, but imagine my excitement when finally I got a "muy bien!" However, then we had to pair up. I was asked to dance by a Frenchman who smelled like cigarettes and hair gel and who told me he only came to the tango class because his friends were. This was disappointing since I had been looking forward to it all week. We practiced walking for a little before one of the teachers intervened and had me dance with him for the rest of the time. This was much better, and I was able to concentrate on getting it right rather than making conversation, which sounds rude but is true. After getting the walk down pat, it was time to move on to a "paso clasico," apparently one of the most basic steps in tango which involves one step to the side, two steps backward, one step where you cross your feet and another step to the side. At this point I was paired with another Frenchman who was a much better dancer, and we got the hang of it quickly. We even got another "muy bien!" In all, it was a very successful first tango experience and I cannot wait to learn more. We got a recommendation for a tango club in Palermo from one of the teachers and plan to check it out soon.

Today was course registration, which was an... experience. I am used to the GW way of doing it which is all online and done from the comfort of your dorm room. Here, they herded all the exchange students into an auditorium where each facultad, or department, had set up a table. From there you had to go to each facultad you wanted to take a class in to find out the time and days of the classes you wanted. The schedules with the timetables were unique as well. The classes are organized by year (out of 4 years), and then by "tema," or section, A B or C, and then by whether the class was offered in the morning or in the afternoon. Any given class could have been on 10 different sheets, but you don't know which one until you've looked at them all. Then you had to fill out a registration sheet with your first and second time choices and the code of the class, give it to the advisor, and hope he doesn't lose it. Ayayay. Anyway, I went to the Political Science & International Affairs table, the Communications table, and the History and Literature table before I found a few classes that fit with my required Spanish class and a Spanish literature class that I had already chosen. I am only going to end up staying in one of them since I only need 3 classes to transfer to GW but since we have a 2-week shopping period before we are locked into our classes I thought I'd go to a few and see which ones I like best. Right now the one that sounds most interesting is a poli sci class called "Politica Exterior Argentina," which loosely translates to "Argentina Foreign Policy." It also works nicely with my other two classes, giving me mainly afternoon classes.

Next week we have off for a week before classes start on March 10, and some friends and I are going to Mar del Plata, the biggest resort town in Argentina. I am really excited to go to the beach and get a tan, as well as see more of the country. I don't know what the internet situation will be, but I'll update when I get back as well as upload pictures of the last month.

Besos!!!

N

"How do you say, "Life Skill" in Spanish?"

On Thursday I took my first excursion outside Buenos Aires city limits, to a town on Rio de la Plata called Tigre. I was looking forward to it, since I'd heard a lot about how pretty Tigre was, and also since we had been informed that the trip involved kayaking. I have been a fan of any kind of boating since my summer camp days, so I was stoked. One damper on the situation: my intensive class has been from 2 to 6 in the afternoon, and to accomodate the trip to Tigre they had moved class up to 9 in the morning. This meant I had to wake up/ leave my house by 8:30, the earliest I had done anything here in Argentina. Needless to say, class was excruciating. I had not had time to grab my customary "cafe doble solo" which sounds like an oxymoron but isn't (more on the magic of Argentine cafes in another post) and subsequently was unable to form a coherent English sentence, let alone conjugate past perfect subjunctive in Spanish. But I digress. Finally we got to Tigre, which was as beautiful as advertised. In the first half of the 20th century it was where portenos went during the summer to escape the city. It has been eclipsed by Mar del Plata, but beautiful mansions and wide avenues remain. After a scenic ramble to the Tigre Art Museum, my boat buddy, Sailee, and I were anxious to get in the water. We had not been floating for more than a few minutes before I realized our rudder, which they said should be controlled from the back seat where I was, was not in the water. The problem was compounded by the fact that motorboats sped by every couple minutes, shaking the kayak with wake and throwing us pretty far off course. I managed to steer with my crazy canoeing skills left over from Camp Treetops which involve shoving your oar in the water on the opposite side of the direction you want to go in. For example, if we wanted to go left, I'd leave my oar in the water on the right. This slowed us down considerably but at least we didn't hit any motorboats, and we managed not to be the last ones back to the dock. Unfortunately we didn't get to enjoy scenic Tigre from the water, but thank you summer camp.

On Sunday we went to the fair in San Telmo, where I wanted to practice another life skill, one I am not so adept at: haggling. I know that at open air markets prices are jacked up considerably for tourists, and my accent makes me an easy target, but usually I feel too badly to argue with someone who is just trying to make a living. In this case I had made up my mind to find something and bargain, but the San Telmo market is not your average crafts fair. The economic crisis of 2001 caused many families to sell their heirlooms just to survive, and their belongings ended up in San Telmo. The place was full of beautiful chandeliers, tapestries, china sets and jewelry. The thought of bargaining for someone's family heirloom with someone who obviously is not in great economic straits themselves got the better of me, and I decided to leave the haggling to a different fair. I didn't end up buying anything, though seriously considered an antique black beaded evening clutch priced at $40 (about $11 U.S). 

The intensive course ended on Friday, and I did well on my final which means I'm in the "Advanced" Spanish grammar class for the regular semester (YAY!). Also on Friday we found our favorite club so far in Buenos Aires, a place called "El Living." They have both a bar area and a dance floor which is good since I am not much of a discoteca person, and played awesome music. Most places here in BA seem to think everyone loves techno but at El Living we heard everything from Jock Jams to The Killers. It was nice to actually be able to talk and meet new people rather than randomly dancing with strangers. It's definitely my new go-to place to have fun. This week is Orientation Week, which involved informational meetings in the morning and fun cultural activities in the afternoon. For example, tomorrow afternoon we are playing "traditional Argentine games," whatever that means, and Thursday I register for classes. I'll let you know how it goes.

Besos

N